


sheer

by transkylo (captainandor)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bottom Kylo Ren, Clothed Sex, Frottage, Hux is a thirsty bitch but aren't we all, I'm just tossing all the kinks in here I don't care, Lingerie, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 01:04:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14461749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainandor/pseuds/transkylo
Summary: “That day.” he says, “In medbay. I thought you would mention it - use it to humiliate me.”“It’s been on my mind ever since. But not for the purpose of humiliation.”Ren is quiet for a moment. “You liked it.” he says, realising. Hux almost regrets learning how to shield his thoughts, otherwise they’d have stopped tiptoeing around each other long ago.“Yes. I did, very much.”orwritten for the prompt:Hux accidentally finds out that Kylo wears lingerie under his knight getup. He tries to woo him by sending him new things to wear. At first Kylo thinks Hux is trying to blackmail him but then he finds out that Hux is actually seriously interested in seeing the clothes on him.





	sheer

**Author's Note:**

> considering I used to hate writing smut, its all I seem to write nowadays lmao only god can kinkshame me!!!
> 
> written for [this ](https://softkyluxkinks.tumblr.com/post/173265393615/hux-accidentally-finds-out-that-kylo-wears) prompt on soft kylux kinks

It’s typical of Ren, Hux thinks, fighting the urge to rub at his forehead as a Petty Officer stands before him to relay the message, that he should throw some kind of tantrum and refuse medical treatment. So typical that Hux doesn’t even know why he’s been summoned to deal with it, save for perhaps some scenario in which Ren has destroyed precious tech or has a medic by the throat, which is far more likely than he’ll allow himself to admit. 

“Thank you, Petty Officer.” He says, nodding once she’s finished, “You are dismissed.” 

She hesitates. “Sir.” 

Hux lifts an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

“No, Sir. Only that I was requested to escort you to medbay.”

Hux wonders who gave the order and feels a spark of irritation. He’s fully capable of taking care of himself where Ren is concerned. He is, perhaps, the only person aboard this ship capable of dealing with the volatile force user, though even he has to admit defeat on certain occasions, since he hasn’t spoken to Ren since Hux had impulsively shoved him up against the wall and kissed him, open-mouthed and desperate, behaving like nothing more than a teenager. Ren had just stared at him, afterwards, slack jawed, as Hux had righted his uniform and left without a word. 

“That won’t be necessary.” He tells her, leaving no room for discussion. She’s relatively new onboard and doesn’t need to be subjected to Ren at his worst just yet, besides. 

She looks hesitant but offers him a crisp salute before turning on her heel. Hux watches her retreating back and allows himself to sigh. His shift on the bridge has barely begun, and already he can see it far enough. 

When he arrives at medbay, a chaotic scene greets him. Equipment is strewn all across the floor, and harried medics are rushing around followed by droids struggling to keep up. The source of the problem is, of course, Ren himself, who appears to be in a heated argument with one of the younger medics, who is holding a pair of scissors and looking largely unimpressed. Hux feels a sense of pride at how calmly she’s responding, and steps into the room.

“Ren.” He barks. All of the medics snap to attention, turning to look at him. Ren remains where he is, scowling. 

“General Hux, Sir.” One of the medics greets, clearly nervous. 

“What seems to be the problem?”

“It’s Lord Ren, Sir.” The medic supplies, “He’s refusing treatment. His wounds require immediate attention so as to avoid sepsis.” 

Mentally, Hux makes a note to get a briefing on Ren’s mission later on, when things have settled down. It must have gone wrong somewhere, if Ren is injured badly enough. 

“Stop being a child, Ren, and let them do their job.”

“I’m fine.” Ren snaps, “This is an overreaction.”

“He’s not, Sir.” The medic says, “He has a serious blaster wound on his thigh and I need to take a look at it.” 

Some days, Hux wants to throttle Ren, regardless of how stupidly attractive he might be. 

“Ren, I don’t care about your pride, or your Force, because stars know that neither will help you if you end up with sepsis and need your leg amputated. Now please, for once in your life, just do as you’re asked.” He snaps, his mouth set in a hard line as Ren glares back at him for a long moment. 

Eventually, he relents, his shoulders sagging just a little as he looks away and gives the medic the smallest of nods. 

His expression remains tense as he lies down begrudgingly, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The medic, however, is much more relaxed, now that her patient has settled down and is actually co-operating. She gets to work, carefully cutting into the torn fabric of Ren’s tunic and leggings in order to get a clearer view of his injuries. As she pulls the fabric aside and sets the scissors down to collect some gauze and bacta solution, Hux pauses – Ren is clearly wearing something made of lace beneath his clothing.

Ren meets his eye, and then shifts uncomfortably, looking away as quickly as their gazes had met.

Hux feels heat creeping up his neck as soon as he realises that Ren is wearing lingerie. _Was he wearing that when I kissed him?_ Hux thinks, unable to help himself from imagining it, the thought of pushing his hand into Ren’s leggings and feeling his cock - hard beneath the lacy fabric - too good to ignore. 

The medic seems to be taking an awfully long time to gather her supplies. Ren clears his throat. 

“Do you have to be here?” he asks, staring resolutely anywhere other than at Hux’s face. His hands are twitching by his sides, curling into fists, as though he desperately wants to sit up and shield himself. Ren has, it seems, always been uncomfortable showing skin. They had worked together for four years before Hux had even seen him take off the stupid helmet, longer still before he’d even done as much as remove his gloves.

Of course Hux’s mind had wandered, imagining what was beneath all those layers; but never once had he thought that Ren was the type to wear lacy underthings. It had crossed his mind, perhaps, that he was the sort who didn’t even bother with underthings at all. 

His voice is remarkably steady when he replies. “I need to ensure that you are fit for duty.” He says, and it’s only half a lie, “Supreme Leader Snoke will require an update on the situation.” 

The medic returns, sidestepping Hux carefully to get to the bed, and begins laying out the gauze and bacta solution, before snapping a pair of gloves onto her hands and reaching to move the fabric out of the way of the wound. The wound itself is bad, though Hux has no doubt Ren has experienced worse. The entry point is red and angry, the skin all around it bruised to a near black colour. 

Ren hisses at the first application of bacta, clenching his jaw. 

“It will likely hurt less if you relax, you know.” Hux says. 

Ren’s look is bordering on murderous, though he says nothing. Hux watches the medic clean and stitch up the wound with no more complaint from Ren. He sits up as soon as she’s finished, shifting the edge of his tunic to cover the exposed skin on his thigh and keeping his hand there, covering it, as she runs through how to keep it clean.

Later, in his chambers, Hux resolutely does not think about Ren wearing lingerie. He doesn’t. 

(And if, on shore leave, he indulges in buying Ren a pair of – purely hypothetical – lace underthings, then well. No one has to know.)

“What is this?” Ren asks, and when Hux looks, he sees the deep red of the lace, bundled up in one of his hands. He’s been in Hux’s office for the better part of an hour, getting in the way under the pretence of ‘overseeing plans’, as apparently requested by the Supreme leader. Hux doesn’t believe him – Ren will use any excuse to be an irritation. It seems that he’s also been going through the drawers of Hux’s filing cabinet. 

Against his skin, the red looks even darker, richer, and Hux takes a breath, immediately needs to see Kylo wearing it, the lace against his bare stomach and thighs. 

“Do you have any sense of privacy, Ren?” he makes himself ask, looking up at Ren’s face instead. 

“This ship is mine just as much as it is yours,” he says, “Answer the question.”

He might as well come clean. The worst Ren can do is laugh at him, and the best – well. He’s already imagined that in detail. “It’s for you.” 

Ren looks down at the lace in his hand, and when he looks up at Hux again it’s with a deep frown. “For what purpose? Blackmail?”

Hux pushes himself back from the desk, fingers tapping on the surface. “No, Ren.” he says, steadily, “It’s not blackmail.” 

Ren’s brows draw together. “Then what -“ he stops, pulling at his bottom lip with his teeth, “I don’t understand.” 

The movement draws Hux’s eye. Ren’s lower lip is full and pink, and Hux remembers the feeling of it against his own, regrets not using his own teeth now. Would Ren whimper if he did? Or would he grunt like he did before, a rough and animalistic sound pulled from his throat?

“Must I spell it out for you?” he says, instead of offering an answer. 

In truth, he doesn’t know what he would even tell Ren. That he’s been fantasising about the tiniest sliver of pale skin that was exposed to him in less than appropriate circumstances? That he’s practically dreamed of that small hint of lace, of dressing Ren up in fine lingerie only to rip it off with his teeth?

Ren’s throat works around a hard swallow, as he considers the fabric in his hand. 

“That day.” he says, “In medbay. I thought you would mention it – use it to humiliate me.” 

“It’s been on my mind ever since. But not for the purpose of humiliation.” 

Ren is quiet for a moment. “You liked it.” he says, realising. Hux almost regrets learning how to shield his thoughts, otherwise they’d have stopped tiptoeing around each other long ago. 

“Yes. I did, very much.” 

“You want me to wear these,” Ren continues, “And then – what?” 

“I would very much like to kiss you again.” Hux tells him, “For a start.” 

Hux watches as Ren’s eyes narrow a fraction as he sets the lingerie down on the edge of the desk. 

From there, it takes him only three paces before he’s right in front of Hux, standing before him, looking remarkably sure of himself as he sinks down to his knees. Hux raises an eyebrow as he widens his own, allowing for Ren to edge between his thighs, gloved hands coming up to rest on the stiff fabric of his uniform breeches, as Ren leans up to press their lips together.

It’s chaste, if only for a moment. Hux winds a hand up into Ren’s thick mane of hair, grasping it tightly in his fist, and with a grunt, Ren presses harder against him, mouth opening for Hux’s tongue. 

His lips are just as soft as Hux remembers, and he can’t resist the urge to catch the lower one between his teeth, tugging sharply and eliciting a low groan from somewhere in Ren’s chest, his fingers tightening around Hux’s thighs, leather creaking between his knuckles. 

“Are you wearing any?” Hux has to ask, “Under your robes?”

He’s never been much good at self-restraint where Ren is concerned, and it should be alarming, how quickly and easily he now gives in, how suddenly he needs to see and touch, but he scarcely has the room in his mind to care. 

Ren nods, the tiniest inclination of his head. They’re still so close, Hux imagines he could feel the rhythm of Ren’s heart if he tried hard enough, wonders, perhaps, if Ren can sense the rabbit-quick jump of his own pulse, rushing in his ears. 

“Let me see.” 

He regrets the loss of warmth as Ren shifts back onto his heels, but it’s worth it when Ren reaches up to tug off his cowl, tossing the ratty fabric onto the floor, pauses to catch Hux’s eye, and is emboldened by whatever it is he sees there. Hux has no idea if he’s even guarding his thoughts anymore; all of his attention is focused solely on the man in front of him, and the subtle flex of his biceps beneath a layer of thick fabric Hux never even dreamed he’d see beneath, not fully, until that tiny sliver of exposed thigh had driven him to the point of distraction, desperate as he’s been to see Ren laid bare before him.

In one smooth motion, Ren sheds his tunic, folding it lazily as he maintains his steady gaze aimed at Hux’s face. He already knew it, but seeing it in person is another thing entire, because, stars, Ren is huge. Every muscle defined from years of intense training, littered with scars old and new.

Ren stands, turns to face away, throwing a cocky smirk over his shoulder before sliding the fabric of his leggings down his thighs. The air catches in Hux’s throat the moment he sees Ren’s arse, clothed this time in black sheer. It leaves little to the imagination, the fabric so delicate Hux is surprised Ren manages to keep it intact, considering how he ruins nearly everything else he touches. Once Ren is fully undressed, save for his underthings, Hux reaches out to touch, his palm light against the skin of Ren’s thigh. He traces a path with the tips of his fingers along, curving below the swell of one buttock, and smiles to himself when Ren’s breath hitches, ever so slightly, at the contact. 

“Turn around,” Hux says, voice surprisingly clear, considering how tight his throat feels. 

“Bossy, aren’t we.” Ren snorts, though he obeys, and if Hux thought he was ready for the sight of Ren’s cock beneath a thin layer of semi-transparent fabric, he was completely and utterly incorrect. 

The blaster wound on his thigh is fully healed now, just a faint bump of twisted scar tissue, and Hux skirts past it as he brings his other hand up, resting them both against the jut of Ren’s hips, and allows himself to drink it all in. He shifts in his seat, and Ren seems to know by instinct to move forward, bringing his knees either side of Hux’s hips to straddle him. Hux allows himself to slide a palm down Ren’s thigh again, feeling the hard muscle there. 

“I must confess.” Ren says, bracing one hand on the back of the chair, just to the left of Hux’s head, boxing him in, “This isn’t how I expected to spend my day.” 

“Nor I.” 

“And yet you bought me a gift which implies a certain level of intimacy.” 

“A man can dream.” Hux says, shrugging one shoulder. 

“Some dream.” Ren says, but his tone is light, and Hux detects no hint of derision, only sarcasm. 

“You’ve never entertained the thought?” Hux asks, quirking a brow. Ren had definitely kissed back, that first time – his grip on Hux had been bruising. 

Ren tilts his head. “Supreme Leader Snoke demands a level of celibacy among the Knights of Ren. Anything else distracts from the force.” 

“I see.” Hux says. He fingers the ruffled edge of the underwear, soft against Ren’s hot skin. “And are you?”

Ren huffs out a laugh, lip twisting into a little smile. “No.”

Hux hums, slipping his fingers beneath the fabric, enjoying the way it makes Ren squirm against him, his hips jerking ever so slightly. “I’m glad.” he murmurs, and leans in for another kiss. 

Ren reaches up, fumbling blindly at the clasp of Hux’s collar, trying to get it open, but Hux gently bats his hand away.

He feels, rather than sees, Ren frowning, a slight downturn of his lips. “You want to keep your uniform on?” 

Hux reaches round to grip a fistful of Ren’s arse. “I prefer it like this.” He says. At least for now. Later, perhaps, he can dress Ren up in the red lace, lay him out on the bed and take his time. 

“Oh.” Ren says, and it takes Hux a minute to realise that he’d broadcasted that particular thought. He tilts his head back, looking up through half-lidded eyes. Ren is blushing, very slightly – the faintest trace of pink blossoming from the centre of his chest up his neck, curling high across both cheekbones. When Hux slips beneath the fabric, slides his middle and ring finger between Ren’s buttocks, he gasps again, gripping the back of the chair tight in one fist as the other one closes in around Hux’s collar. “Fuck. Hux.” He says, “I want that too. I want –”

Hux grins, emboldened, as Ren rolls his hips, the length of his cock hot and hard against Hux’s own. The friction feels good, but it isn’t anywhere near enough. He pulls Ren harder against him, the slow drag of their hips against one another all Hux can think about – all he can care about – except for the way Ren keeps groaning, pressing his lips to Hux’s neck in wet, open mouthed kisses. 

“Next time, I’m going to absolutely wreck you.” Hux says, a little breathless. He’s starting to perspire, and the feeling of sweat-damp skin against his uniform clothes is uncomfortable, but he far prefers the feeling of Ren’s naked skin against the fabric, enjoys the illusion of power it gives him. 

“Please.” Ren whimpers. He’s making little desperate noises against Hux’s neck, and Hux feels delirious, lightheaded with arousal. 

He thinks, maybe he should have bought a full set. Stockings and garters to match, a brassiere, even; the lace pulled tight over Ren’s pectorals. The image of Ren dressed in underthings bought by Hux sends a wave of possessiveness straight through him, and he grips Ren by the hair, pulls his head up sharply so that he can kiss him again. 

Ren sinks his teeth into Hux’s bottom lip, the sharp sting of pain the final thing that pushes Hux over the edge, his orgasm hitting him with force, a shudder running the length of his spine as he spills inside his uniform. 

When Hux shoves a hand down the front of his underwear and wraps a hand around his cock, it isn’t long before Ren reaches his own orgasm, splattering white all across the pristine black of Hux’s jacket. 

Immediately, Ren sags against him, chest rising and falling as he struggles to catch his breath. Hux pulls his hand away, sticky with semen, and wipes it on his already ruined clothes. He’ll dump them straight into the laundry chute as soon as he undresses. 

The weight of Ren above him is starting to become uncomfortable, hardly surprising considering Ren’s height and breadth, but Hux is too tired, too sated to ask him to move, especially not when Ren noses in behind his ear, flicking his tongue across the now-damp skin there. It should be disgusting – Hux would never usually allow it – but somehow, it stirs something in the pit of his stomach. If he weren’t so exhausted, Hux knows he’d be aroused again. 

As it is, he just reaches up, pushes Ren’s messy hair away from his forehead until Ren glances up at him, eyes heavy. 

“So.” Ren says, voice slightly gravelly, and Hux immediately wants to hear more of it; a thought he’d never have expected to entertain until this moment. “You should buy me gifts more often.” 

He barks out a sudden laugh, follows it with another one when he catches sight of the slow smile that spreads across Ren’s face at the sound. Before he knows it, they’re both laughing, shoulders shaking with the effort. 

“Oh,” he says, when the laughter subsides, and Ren shifts in his lap, throwing both legs across Hux’s thighs to sit sideways, nestling onto his lap in something resembling an embrace, “Yes,” he adds, “I think I should.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow 4 more gay shit @translkylo on tumblr
> 
> Also there's some really gorgeous fanart inspired by this fic now!!! You can view it [here ](http://translkylo.tumblr.com/post/174116206448/gamebird-kylostahp-translkylos-sheer-made)


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